


The Damned and the Boy

by RickishMorty



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Death, Demons, Hell, M/M, Violence, incomplete work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-01-30 17:22:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21431926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RickishMorty/pseuds/RickishMorty
Summary: "Pip ... Do you feel ... bad?"He couldn't see him, he couldn't look at him, in the shadow he knew he was there, he knew he was close to him, he knew that looking down he could see his red irises ...And he also knew that the bad he was talking about was not physical bad. It was real bad.Internal.Deep.He took a deep breath, swallowing, keeping his face uplifted.A tear ran down his pale skin.He closed his eyes, nodding slowly."Yes"He felt the demon's grin.He felt it, because his lips were on his skin.ON HIATUS
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman, Phillip "Pip" Pirrip & Damien Thorn
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An old work about Damien and Pip.  
Enjoy it and leave a comment!

"Pip ... Do you feel ... bad?"

He couldn't see him, he couldn't look at him, in the shadow he knew he was there, he knew he was close to him, he knew that looking down he could see his red irises ...

And he also knew that the bad he was talking about was not physical bad. It was real bad.

Internal.

Deep.

He took a deep breath, swallowing, keeping his face uplifted.

A tear ran down his pale skin.

He closed his eyes, nodding slowly.

"Yes"

He felt the demon's grin.

He felt it, because his lips were on his skin.

The blond boy was writing down mathematics exercises assigned by the professor. His hand moved listlessly on the sheet, and his face was leaning against the other palm. A sad and resigned expression caused by the umpteenth abuse of his classmates.

It was like that every day. Once Damien had told him that he no longer had to be hurt. He told him he was meant to be treated badly.

He sighed, looking out the window. Damien...

What was their friendship?

Were they friends still now?

He had approached the newbie, winning his incredible shyness, seeing that the newcomer was lonely like him. And Damien started to hang out with him. But for what? For convenience? For desperation?

His expression was disappointed.

And then he had USED him, for real. Teasing him to be accepted. As Eric Cartman had already done.

Sigh. Suddenly his expression softened.

But Damien was back, he had returned to South Park sometime ... And he hadn't gone to the others. He had gone to visit him.

The first time he showed up at his bedroom window, hanging upside down from the roof. Pip had looked at him in amazement, more because he had returned than because he was put in that absurd position.

And their first walk had taken place. Their first, long, very strange walk, which often ended at the park.

He remembered perfectly that there was wind, and the yellowed leaves fluttered around them.

Perhaps this is why, thinking of Damien, his mind often linked the boy with the melancholy and desolate image of autumn.

In the end he was not all wrong ... Autumn was dense with death; it was steeped in air, in which the lifeless leaves flew by the wind.

Who better than Damien could recall the idea of death?

But he hadn't come so many times ...

Thinking about it, he had come at least once a month. Or at least in South Park, at least from him.

He looked down again, realizing he was scribbling the checkered sheet with his pen.

Damien had remained his only friend, a strange friendship, which he could not define. He could not tell if he was sincere or not, he could not tell if it was for convenience or not.

But after all, what convenience could there be now?

What could he offer to the Devil's son?

Assuming that it was true.

Pip smiled a little.

He didn't even have anyone to say he had a demon for a friend.

He drew a pitchfork, thinking it was a long time since he had seen him... and he couldn't wait for him to come back, for another walk in the park.

He smirked, before finding himself in front of a large hand crushing the paper he was writing on.

"Hey Frenchie, what the fuck is that smile?"

Pip looked up, meeting the arrogant grin of Eric Cartman.

He frowned, worried, hiding his frustration, trying to ignore him.

"Hey, we're talking to you," Craig nodded as he approached his desk.

"I can't believe it, he ignore us!" An amused Kenny concluded the circle around the boy.

He was ignored and denigrated by everyone, but lately those three had found a real vocation in bullying him.

He sighed, trying to keep focusing on his notes, as he heard the sound of his empty case on the floor and the laughter of his classmates.

He was coming home, finally. He walked on the sidewalk clogged with yellowed leaves, with only the desire to throw himself on the sofa and cover himself with his Scottish plaid.

He shook his head, exhausted, exasperated, tired. Stop harassment, stop bad words, stop, stop, stop to be teased and avoided by everyone ... It was enough.

He closed his eyes, trying to cancel himself, trying to nullify the circle on his head produced by continuous and bad laughter.

He squeezed his eyes and fists, tightening his lips, speeding up the pace, suddenly feeling himself colliding with something. He almost fell behind because of the speed with the figure he had slammed into, looking like marble at the impact.

He felt himself caught by a sleeve of his jacket, avoiding the fall. He stared his blue eyes into the boy before him.

Red eyes.

He was shocked.

"Damien ..."

The dark boy smiled, putting him back on his feet and leaving his jacket.

"Hi Pip".


	2. The Frog and the Scorpion

They walked side by side, Pip had not even returned home to lay the briefcase, still carrying it over his shoulder.

In the driveway there were only the two of them, along with a couple going in the opposite direction, pushing the stroller. They passed them, and Pip noticed that the woman was looking at Damien's eyes.

The boy turned to his friend, giving him a weak smile, as a principle of speech. It was always like this. When Pip smiled, Damien said something, couldn't bear to leave things to a smile.

"How are you doing?" The demon said promptly.

Pip looked away, shrugging his shoulders and making an uncertain smile "Well ... I think. As usual"

Damien gave him a sideways glance, to spy on his expression.

"Damien, how often can you come to South Park?" The blond looked at him. He had wanted to ask that question a long time.

Surely he had a set time to come to earth ... A month? Three weeks?

He didn't know if he was Satan's son, but he was aware that Damien belonged to something supernatural ... He must surely have his rules.

The answer displaced him.

"Whenever I want"

Pip was silent, stunned. He had also stopped, and then started walking again mechanically, to prevent Damien from noticing.

"Oh"

He looked ahead, trying to suppress a strange sense of disappointment, of ... pain in the center of his chest.

... Damien had no rules. He could do what he wanted. Which means he didn't want to come to South Park. If not rarely.

A question therefore remained. Why did he come to South Park?

He swallowed, not even knowing what was the point of walking.

Too many questions, too many doubts, too many answers to look for, too many unresolved ideas.

But maybe... The friendship with Damien, did he have to take it like this?

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to get rid of that uneasy grip on his chest.

He looked at the boy on his left for a moment, noticing ... a grin?

Pip frowned, trying to decipher it. Was he pleased?

Damien turned to him, turning the grin into a strange smile.

Pip concentrated on his expression ... At least for the first five seconds. He remained as hypnotized by that look, he could not take his eyes off those two blood-red irises.

He blinked twice, moving his eyes into his. He couldn’t say more.

They were the most beautiful and scary eyes he had ever seen.

He looked away when Damien did the same.

Generally they did not talk much, but usually there was not all this tension between them.

Well, Damien really didn't seem to weigh much. Indeed, he seemed more comfortable than the other times. Pip, on the other hand, could not get rid of that lump in his throat.

It would have been better not to ask that question.

They had arrived at the park; there was a pleasant shade of yellow all around them. The maples surrounded the landscape, making it almost dreamlike.

Pip headed for a bench, dropping the folder to the floor, sitting down and resting his hands on the wood, looking at everything but Damien.

The dark boy looked at him instead. He stood with his hands in his pockets for a moment longer, before sitting down next to him.

He looked at the ground, but still a smile remained on his lips.

He perfectly felt the pain radiating from the blond's soul. And it was like electricity on his skin, he felt it spread in the air and absorbed it completely, like smoke.

It was delicious.

He turned his head, looking at him. It could not be said that Pip was not.

He observed his delicate features, his pale skin. His nose slightly upward, his blue eyes, his fine, blonde eyebrows like his hair, his slightly purple cheeks ... and his lips. His lips are thin, clear, pale from the cold; it seemed frozen.

The blond licked them with discretion, in an automatic gesture.

Damien did not notice that he had narrowed his eyes in concentration, but he noticed perfectly the movement of the boy's tongue. His wet lips now looked exquisitely soft ... and inviting.

Pip turned, meeting the boy's gaze again, suddenly turning to his eyes.

He seemed to see him again as a child ... with the frown and severe expression he always had.

"Why are you returning to South Park, Damien?"

The question had been asked, but perhaps too soon.

The boy bit his lip, waiting for the answer, waiting for some change on his face, in his gaze.

They looked at each other for a few moments. Damien was the first to turn his gaze, still with the same frown.

"It bothers you?"

Pip shook his head, he didn't want misunderstandings.

"No, no, not at all ... But it was a curiosity I have had for a long time. Are you coming back here out of nostalgia? For what?"

Damien pushed his tongue against his cheek, raising an eyebrow and looking up, weighing the possibility of answering or not.

"There is no reason. I feel I want to come back and that's it ".

He looked at the blond again, slightly annoyed.

The blond nodded, putting his hands on his knees and staring at them.

The dark boy observed the movement, to then look again at the profile of the boy.

" Why not?".

Pip looked at him in surprise, his tone almost softened. He smiled sincerely.

"Whatever the reason ... I hope to last".

Damien feel the boy's pain diminish, replaced by a feeling of ... serenity?

He felt a sense of annoyance at that change. But that smile managed to mitigate him in an extraordinary way, impossible to deny.

It had also softened a pain in the background, which was present in Pip's soul since he had met him. It probably always depended on the same thing.

"How is school?" He often asked him, it was something that he had also been concerned with. School had been the most important part of his brief human life.

Pip wiped the smile from his face, looking back at his gloved hands, shrugging his shoulders.

"Normal"

Damien felt the boy's soul darken again ... He couldn't help but suppress a shudder.

"How are the fat-ass and company?" He narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the sensations that could come from the boy, ready to analyze it.

Pip bit his lip, tilting his face slightly into the scarf.

"I don't know ... Well, I think"

"Do you ever get tired of taking the piss?"

Pip was puzzled by the question. Damien had again made a bad, provocative remark ... He looked at him and a sort of resentment made its way into him. Damien could hear it.

"Not enough to take it out on someone, not enough to act like an asshole to please four bastards ..." he stared at him, serious, spitting out words that were bitter accusations, held back for a long time.

Damien listened to him, expressionless.

"And then ..." the blond looked away from him, with a sarcastic smile "I was not lucky enough to have a poor idiot as a friend, to betray ..."

There was a moment of silence between them.

That was the speech they never made, it was the pending point between them that they had never faced, as in a tacit agreement in their friendship that had continued as if nothing had happened.

Damien watched the boy tighten in himself, almost without realizing it.

A laugh broke the silence, a low and short laugh.

Pip didn't even turn to Damien, he expected such a reaction.

He only gripped the fingers of one hand in the other, frustrated.

The demon spread a grin on his face, looking at that sullen little angel.

Yes…

Pip had always seemed an angel after all, in appearance and nature.

And this ... it drove him crazy.

"Isn't it absurd, how two so different and contrary souls can look for each other?"

Pip looked up, intrigued by the words. But he immediately lowered them again, hardening his eyes again.

"For convenience, the frog and the scorpion can ally ... but then one cheats by nature"

Damien frowned: he had never heard this story.

But that word bothered him: convenience. It irritated him deeply.

Did Pip think so? Since when?

"What convenience would I have in coming here?" He looked at him seriously, hard. Almost injured.

Pip turned, in an unconscious attempt to completely alienate him from his gaze. He couldn't excuse himself like that. He could not. He was wrong, absolutely wrong.

"Answer me. What could be useful for me to come here?"

The Englishman closed his eyes, swallowing, before turning to him, without looking at him.

"I don't know ... I don't know," he turned around again.

He felt a hand block his chin, turning it towards him. Damien was looking at him, staring at him. He seemed almost angry.

His red eyes, lit like the flames of hell, were fixed in his.

They challenged him, forced him to respond; and the longer Pip lingered, the more his gaze hardened.

Pip didn't answer, not because he didn't know what to say ... but because those eyes, those deep and magnetic eyes terrified him, blocking his breath.

His eyes moved in his, cautious and frantic at the same time, feeling his warm and firm hand blocking his face.

For the first time he felt inevitably drawn to those eyes.

… It was the first time?

“I-I asked you w-why you do it. There is no reason, r-right? You said it... Damien... "he placed a hand on his, to free himself from that grasp.

Damien discouraged that gesture, with a jerk. He looked down at the boy's lips, passing a thumb over it.

"The reason is that I want ..."

Pip’s breath trembled. He felt almost a small glimmer of heat warming his chest, clouding his doubts and his resentment. But he still couldn't smile, not with his fingers on his lips.

Inevitably, he himself went to look at his own. Everything to escape that look.

Damien could hear the gentle breath of the boy tickling his fingertips, resting on his lips.

Suddenly he felt the desire to see them again shiny, wet...

He let him go, feeling him sigh with surprise. He stared again at his eyes, narrowing his own.

He raised his face, weighing an idea.

"Pip..."

Blue eyes drowned into darting ones, as if searching for an answer, or a question, something that knew how to let him know a little about Damien's soul, his best friend.

"… Yes?"

Damien approached him slightly, smiling internally at the naive blush on the boy's cheeks.

"Close your eyes…"

Pip tried the instinct to get away, but commanded by those blood-colored eyes, closed his eyes and lips, uncertain. With fear and curiosity.

Damien smiled.

After a few moments, Pip couldn't help but open his eyes.

It almost seemed to him that he could see black smoke, where a moment before there was Damien.


	3. Turning Points

Hell boy walked in his natural habitat, at his home.  
He kicked the dark flintstones scattered over the land of Hell, holding his hands in his pockets and looking down.  
"Help! Please help me! ”An old man with a hollow face and a long, dirty beard had raised his hand towards him, with terror in his eyes. It was half immersed in boiling lava.  
Damien raised an eyebrow, raising his face slightly, looking at him arrogantly.  
"And what do you want from me? There is a reason if you stay there... You raped, killed, stolen or the fuck I know ... Your problems, you had fun and now you pay."  
The man looked at him, he was a mask of fear and pain. Fear that increased when he saw the boy approach with a grin.  
Damien looked at him from above, licking his teeth.  
Curling his lips in disgust, he crushed the man's hand, stamping his foot violently.  
"You humans are pathetic ... First you sin and then you complain whining like brats."  
He gritted his teeth, still rubbing his foot against the man's hand that moaned and groaned.  
"If you do something ... you should know that there will be consequences."  
He raised his foot, planting it on the man's face, pushing it down into the boiling lava.

Pip didn't follow the lesson. He couldn't. To be honest, he hadn't followed any of them in the whole morning.  
He wanted to understand what happened yesterday afternoon.  
I mean ... Damien was weird. He was always strange, but Pip was now able to distinguish his various degrees of strangeness.  
First of all, Damien never exposed himself or even talked about things that directly concerned the two of them. They talked about everything: philosophy, existence, ethical problems and concepts that were so abstract that they could not be inserted into a category ... but a topic that was so close to the two of them ... they had never really arrived.  
Pip sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. Why did he have to depend so much on Damien? Because in the end ... he had to care so much about him, he have to feel part of him? After all, he could have come when he wanted to South Park. The times when he returned barely exceeded the number that could be counted on the fingertips.  
One thing that often happened was the fact that Damien touched him. These were obviously touches, small gestures, but Pip couldn't help but be amazed every time it happened. From Damien he had grown accustomed to not expecting anything and the fact that a reserved and cruel person like him allowed himself some physical contact with the interlocutor always surprised him.  
Yesterday he had approached ... really very much. He had felt his breath for a moment tickling his face.  
The intense heat of his hands on his perpetually cold skin ...  
He shook his head. Why think about it? Who knows when he would be back.  
He put his hand on his face: oh no. Tomorrow was the task of French. What was worse for an Englishman?  
He snorted, annoyed, earning a glance from the professor. Craig and Token turned to him, mockingly.  
"Ehi queer, what's up, did you just remember that your boyfriend blow off you today?"  
Pip looked at them only for a moment, looking down and torturing his pen with his fingers. He wanted at least to understand why he could only have acquaintance instead of friendship. Ephemeral acquaintance, which he could never deepen or carry forward.  
Damien often made fun of him for that victim-like air he always had, the whipped puppy-like air, his frowning eyebrows, his uncertain, uncertain look, his narrowed lips slightly out of shape.  
Pip remembered these words in mind, remembering with what teasing tone Damien had spoken them. He smiled ... then thought it over.  
Once someone had also told him "You are a person who take shit. You really have the face of whom take the piss. "  
... What was the point? How could they tease so much a person, regardless?  
Pip bit his lip, suddenly all the anger he felt towards that injustice manifested itself all together.  
He was suffering for years ... for no reason?  
The bell was ringing and he hadn't even noticed it, he had an almost surprised expression on his face. Surprise and furious.  
"Hey faggot, do you have the money for a sandwich?" Cartman's voice.  
"Eric, that's enough! You've done enough, now stop it! ”Kyle's voice.  
Indeed, at times, someone who pitied him defended him.  
"What do you want, Kyle? I just asked him for a loan, "Cartman snapped.  
"Oh sure, you have a nice loan idea since you either force him or steal his money!"  
"Screw you, fucking je..."

"SCREW YOU ALL"  
A grave silence fell on the class. Pip ... had he said bad words? Had he screamed?  
Cartman and Kyle looked at him shocked, speechless, like everyone else.  
"COULD I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME? HOW SHOULD I BE TO PLEASURE YOU ASSHOLES? "  
Many were literally speechless, except for Kenny who had a laugh on his lips: the situation was increasingly unreal. Pip was all red, his eyebrows furrowed and he jumped up from his chair.  
Cartman was the first to recover, hinting a laugh and softening the shocked expression in an amusing amazement. He almost sketched a surprised smile.  
"Bah ... Nothing. Stay as you are. We have grown fond of you now, you know freak? "  
This time it was Pip who was shocked. Eric Cartman? Cherished? And did he speak for everyone? It was completely meaningless. More than he who got angry.  
Cartman patted him on the shoulder, bending his lips downward, almost congratulating himself, then stepping out of the classroom, followed closely by a few more people, who didn't know whether to be more surprised than Cartman or Pip.  
Pip remained alone in the class, again. But this time ... it was different, wasn't it?

Kyle didn't know where to put his surprise. He left the classroom, following Cartman.  
"Cartman!" After a short ride he joined him, looking at him as if he were looking at something absurd "What ... what did you tell him?"  
The boy turned slightly towards his interlocutor, continuing to walk.  
"Nothing in particular, Kahl ... I established a kind of truce with the Englishman."  
Kyle was confused "Why?"  
Eric rolled his eyes, thinking how damn irritating that Jew was "Because that's enough, we've all known each other since we were eight, it's clear that we are not indifferent ..." Having said this he paused, again his thought lingered on Kyle.  
"So stop, there will be nothing but affectionate digs towards that Butters to the nth power ... just smarter. In the long run it's not even fun anymore. "  
Kyle shook his head quietly, reasoning about how Cartman was inevitably wicked "If you don't say bad things about someone you're not happy, eh ...?"  
Eric shrugged, with a smirk.  
Kyle thought for a moment about the scene a while ago "Of course Pip is no longer that shy little boy who made himself spit on him ..."

Returning home, Pip reasoned about what he had done. He tried to remember the exact words he had said ... Oh, good heavens.  
He put his hand to his mouth. But how many bad words did he say? Suddenly he was ashamed of how scurrilous he was, truly worthy of Cartman.  
But there was a really strange feeling in him. A kind of lightening mixed with a sense of expectation.  
He had literally exploded in the classroom, the idea that they could always have teased him for reasons that were actually non-existent had made him mad.  
For the first time in his life he had rebelled. He couldn't hide that a gigantic weight on his stomach had become considerably more bearable.  
But now there was that sense of expectation ... Pip reasoned: it probably depended on the fact that he didn't know what would change, nor how.  
He felt a sense of euphoria in the center of his chest. He looked up, meeting the front door and ... a black figure sitting on the porch fence?  
He blinked in disbelief. It couldn't be Damien. He had just come yesterday.  
The boy turned to him. It was Damien. And he wasn't happy. He had an expression on his face that was nothing short of annoyed, he looked at him with his eyes narrowed in two slits.  
Pip had stopped, displaced by that look.  
"Damien ...?" He stepped forward, placing his backpack in front of the door and stopping in front of him, troubled by his eyes "What ... what is it?"  
Damien looked at him almost disgusted "What is this sense of ... pleasure?" He pronounced the word with sincere disgust "I can feel it on the other side of the road"  
Pip frowned. What was he talking about?  
"But not ... I mean ..." Pip shrugged, looking at the ground, trying to figure out if he had smiled too much. But it didn't matter, he wanted to tell Damien what had happened. Calmly though.  
Suddenly he felt two fingers press on his forehead and he had the feeling that something very fast was flashing in front of his mind ...  
Pip looked at Damien, silenced by that gesture. The dark, on his own, was focused and had his eyes fixed on him. Suddenly his eyes lit up briefly. He removed his fingers, looking at Pip, silenced.  
The blond blinked twice, genuinely confused "Er ..."  
Damien continued to observe his expression, his gaze.  
Then he smiled, a fake and calculating smile. He moved, passing Pip and collecting his bag, turning back to him.  
"Why don't you invite me to take one of the famous teas that you Brits boast so much about ...? So you can tell me how it went in school ... "  
Damien couldn't wait to hear from Pip what he already knew ... he was curious about how he would explain the event to him.  
Pip looked at him, pausing for a moment, as if trying to figure out what the hell Damien had in mind this time. He took the keys from his coat pocket, opening the door and entering, followed by the demon.


	4. Grandma's Eggs

The house was silent, only the ticking of some clock could be heard. The antique but not valuable furniture was covered with all kinds of iron or ceramic objects. Several cuckoo clocks hung on the brown walls.

There was little light passing through the windows covered with patched curtains. The entrance led to a small flight of stairs, while to the left and to the right there were other rooms.

Pip let the briefcase slip to the floor, taking off his gloves.

With cold hands he unbuttoned his coat, taking it off and sticking it in a closet.

He looked over the stairs.

"Granny? Grandmaaa? ”He took off his scarf and hat, waiting for the answer without looking away.

He furrowed his eyebrows, resting his clothes on the chest.

"… Grandma! ... Damien, wait a second, I'll go see. Do as you were at home”. He turned to the boy behind him, who had watched everything silently. With his red eyes he looked at Pip, without answering him.

The blond looked at him a moment longer before climbing the stairs and crossing the corridor, entering his grandmother's bedroom and finding the empty bed, neatly covered with a flowered sheet.

He raised his eyebrows, checking even in the bathroom before going down and finding a note in the kitchen.

_"Honey, I'm playing trump from Mrs. Dupont, if you want to call the number it's on the agenda. Kisses, Grandma. Ps: if you want there is a cake in the oven. "_

Pip breathed a sigh of relief. He was worried about not getting an answer. He returned to the entrance, meeting Damien's eyes again and nailing him.

He looked away: "Damien, you can move..."

No response from those red eyes, the demon was leaning against the wall with folded arms, mixed with darkness.

Pip studied that gaze for a moment before creating an attempt at dialogue with that enigma.

"Would you like to have lunch? Today I didn't have a snack at school ... and it's already three. "

Damien looked around for a moment, as if disoriented and annoyed.

He had not seen many of human houses then, and certainly that stale smell didn't help him get used to it. He didn't answer, he simply pulled away from the wall and went over to the kitchen.

"Didn't you have a snack ...? Strange, for once they didn't cheat your money ... " he said in a low, insinuating voice. He stopped in front of the chair.

Pip could feel his eyes on his back. He turned, looking at him strangely.

"What do you know ...?" He looked at him again, both stopped. When Damien sat down, he knew he had to give up his answer.

He turned back towards the stove, taking a pan and putting a little oil on it.

"I was worrying Damien ... You hadn't yet thrown me any insult..." he smiled, taking two eggs from the fridge.

The demon narrowed his eyes, looking closely at the figure of the boy.

"Aren't you afraid of always having to live with the anguish that she dies?"

Pip stopped, banging the egg a little too hard against the pan, spilling it out onto the stove. His face turned imperceptibly towards him, his body facing the hob, looking down.

"… Sorry?"

Damien fiddled with a ring on his finger, his eyes raised towards him.

"Your grandmother, Pip. Aren't you ever afraid that she won't answer? "

Pip blinked. But how could he ask such things so easily?

"Damien ... yes, it is clear that ... no it doesn't annoy me, it's my grandmother, by now it's all my life I live like this, anguish has become a habit."

"Hmmm ..." he stroked his chin with a finger, looking at him sideways. "Right ... you are so used to death ..."

Pip turned around this time. What the fuck was he saying? He gritted his teeth.

"... Have you finished, Damien? It seemed strange to me that you had returned so soon and that you spoke even less than usual, but to be so ... like that it doesn't really make sense! "

Damien smiled after a moment, looking at the ring.

"Like how..?"

Pip frowned, offended. He had not realized that he had been upset. He was used to teasing about his parents, he was just sorry that Damien say it.

"So mean."

A very strong shiver shook the demon's back.

Mean.

A word so fascinating and unusual among all the adjectives to say, uttered by Pip, with that thin voice of his, with those pale lips of his.

He could feel the blood boiling, he could not help shaking hands. He had to have dilated pupils, also because he felt that sharp pain in Pip's chest, the pain that activated his senses.

Pip looked at him, hoping for an answer that didn't come as usual.

But… he was enchanted for a moment, noticing that Damien had dilated his eyes and that his irises were of a bright red blood.

He looked away, turning back to the stove, breaking two more eggs in the pan.

Ok, he was back silent. He tried to bury the sense of offense his friend had caused in him.

"Today I replied to Cartman and he told me that they are ... affectionate to me, after all." An uncertain smile was painted on his lips. He could not yet realize that some human being, a very particular human being then, could have held out his hand.

Still if he had done it, he could not interpret well.

Damien was distracted by that last sentence.

"Affectionate?" He replied, annoyed.

Pip nodded, slowly moving the pan and lowering the heat.

"Yes…"

No. No. Damien narrowed his eyes. The pain was fading, including Pip's eternal underlying pain.

No ... He wanted more ...

He got up, without making the slightest sound.

"It's absurd ... I ... I don't know how to behave. I keep my feet on the ground and ok ... but maybe tomorrow I could ... I don't know, try to chat with someone".

This last sentence deepened the sense of annoyance to unlikely levels and Damien began to wonder why.

Because the pain diminished, of course. No doubt.

He had waited from the beginning to know what had happened at school and now he hardly heard his words.

His priority was Pip's suffering.

He took a few steps closer, opening his fingers and raising his hands slightly.

Pip smiled, bowing his head: "Then Kyle also defended me today ... it's a good sign, right?" He suddenly felt lightened by that memory.

The demon opened his eyes wide. No, he couldn't stand a drop of pain in the least.

He had to increase it, increase it beyond measure. And he knew how to do it ...

He raised his hands, bringing them close to his arms, ready to take Pip.

"No, Damien ...?"

A bolt noise, the door opening.

Damien whirled around, disappearing into a cloud of black smoke.

Pip turned, still frying the eggs. As the smoke faded her grandmother came to the kitchen doorway.

"Hi darling! But do you still have to eat? "

Pip strained a weak and light smile: "Yes, Grandma ..."

Finding himself in front of lava flows and more than two thousand devils, he thought upset about the event of a few seconds ago.

He gritted his teeth, clenching his fists. Had he been afraid of an old woman ??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ON HIATUS


End file.
